


Professor Delfino

by ceaselesslyinlove



Category: How to Get Away with Murder
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, F/M, Teacher-Student Relationship
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-03
Updated: 2015-12-03
Packaged: 2018-05-04 18:59:21
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,149
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5344988
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ceaselesslyinlove/pseuds/ceaselesslyinlove
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When she leaves Professor Keating’s office and walks past Frank’s, she sees from the crack in the door that he’s in there and his office hours are up.</p>
<p>She tells herself it’s an accident when she walks in and asks him for advice on her report.</p>
<p>That excuse can’t be used again when she does it the next week.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Professor Delfino

**Author's Note:**

> AU Teacher-Student Prompt.
> 
> A lot of this universe is similar to the htgawm world, however, Frank is a professor here and damn, now I wish the show had made him actually be one because I was getting goosebumps just writing him as such. Enjoy fellow readers!

“I heard Professor Delfino is a hot piece of ass,” Connor informs them as they take their seats, the lecture hall slowly filling up.

“You have a boyfriend, Connor,” Michaela reprimands, pushing his shoulder as she seats herself between him and Laurel. 

“Doesn’t mean I can’t look and appreciate,” he smirks and gives Laurel a look.  “I’m sure Laurel would agree…and don’t you deny it, we saw you at the bar yesterday.  You sit there acting all innocent, but you’re just eyeing all the man candy.”

“Just doing what any girl would do at a bar, Connor,” Laurel deadpans, but she offers a slight smile.  She’s tired from the night before and not really in the mood for Connor’s nonstop chatter.  Plus, it’s the first class of the semester and it’s Criminal Law, exactly what she has come to graduate school for and she’s not planning to slack it off.

A few minutes later, the professor walks in, and Laurel realizes she may have to really _enforce_ her attention.

Because Professor Delfino is “a hot piece of ass”.

He’s wearing a perfect three piece suit, fitting enough so she can see the making of a hard muscled body.  She’s not into facial hair at all, but for some reason his beard makes him all the more attractive and she finds herself eyeing him as he walks across the room, along with every other pair of eyes.

“Oh my god,” Michaela mutters under her breath.

She has to agree.

But then he opens his goddamn mouth.

“Good morning.  Name’s Frank Delfino,” he says although he faces the board, writing out the class title and number.  He finally turns to look at them, his gaze confident and a little demeaning. “Welcome to Criminal Law 100.  Unlike every teacher you’ve have, I do believe there are stupid questions.  I can see every seat full today, but I guarantee that will dwindle in the upcoming weeks.  While it’s crucial you come to every class, some of you just won’t be able to keep up (he gives a pointed look at a few girls sitting in the front row), but I’m sure you’ll figure it out along the way.”

Michaela leans over to Laurel.  “Never mind.”

Agreed.

**

As must as she hates him and hates to admit it, he’s a good teacher.

Over the first couple of weeks, she finds herself looking forward to his class and she puts extra effort into preparing for it.  He calls on her a couple of times, but the class is huge and practically everyone participates (especially the girls).  The class is dwindling like he said, but his speech must had riled up a majority of the class, as many still arrive and do everything in their power to be prepared for him.

**

It’s the third week when things get interesting.

She’s walking out from visiting Professor Keating at her office hours, when she turns the corner to the stairs and she runs straight into Professor Delfino, her face ramming right into his chest.  She catches the scent of his cologne before pulling back and tugging her bag closer.

“Sorry, Professor,” she’s about to move around him when she notes his curious gaze.

“Castillo, right?”

“Uh, yeah,” she nods, wondering what kind of small talk she’s going to have to make up.

“You coming from Professor Keating’s office?”

“Yeah, I have two classes with her.”

He raises a brow, which she _does not_ find attractive at all.  Of course.

“Going to become a lawyer just like her, so I’m taking it all on this year, I guess,” she finds herself explaining, which only makes him smirk.

“What?”

“Nothin’.  Just that I’ve seen too many girls of your type, you come here with that exact goal in mind and end up at some corporate job later on in life because of marriages and babies.  It’s a cute dream, but it’s not gonna happen.”

She’s suddenly furious, even more so as he looks her over as if he already knows her.  He couldn’t be more wrong.

“You’re a misogynistic ass.”

She hardly thinks of her actions as she speed-walks away, how she’s just called out a professor and how he can potentially fail her now. It’s not until she walks into her apartment when she starts to dread class next week.

**

The week comes and goes and soon she’s back in Professor Delfino’s class, carefully avoiding him as she listens to his lesson and takes extraordinary notes.

At the end of class, her worst fears are confirmed.

“If Miss Castillo could stay for a few moments after class, please.  Everyone else, you can leave.”

Connor and Michaela give her a surprised look, but leave and she’s left alone with him.

He waits until the last person leaves the class to turn to her. 

“I owe you an apology.”

This time she’s the one to raise a brow.

“I shouldn’t have said what I said.  I was being an ass.”

“You were,” she finds herself replying, and he smirks at that, although this is the first time it appears genuine.

“You like to speak your mind.”

“Well, I want to be a lawyer and a lawyer always speaks her mind.”

“They do,” he replies, leaning against the desk and assessing her.  She can tell she’s somehow stumped him, but in what way she’s can’t say.

“Again, I’m sorry,” he says, holding out a hand and Laurel tries not to stare at his exposed arm.  She’s already a little off her game as it is.

“Apology accepted, Professor,” she replies, taking his hand and giving it a firm shake.  She tries to ignore the warmth of it and how she strangely wants to keep her hand in his.

Forcing herself to let go, she begins to head out, but he stops her again.

“Frank.  You can call me Frank,” he says, as if in afterthought.  She turns to him and he’s still looking at her with intrigue.

“Then I guess you can call me Laurel,” she says, offering a small smile and when he smiles back she’s walking out, trying to still her sudden fluttery heartbeat.

Michaela and Connor are waiting for her outside.

“What was that about?”

“He just wanted to clarify something on my essay,” she finds herself lying and she wonders why she’s suddenly keeping this a secret.

“Alright, Wes and Asher are in the front with the car,” Connor puts away his phone and leads the way out to the parking lot.

Michaela gives her another curious look, but Laurel keeps her face straight and follows Connor outside, wondering what the hell is happening with her.

**

When she leaves Professor Keating’s office and walks past Frank’s, she sees from the crack in the door that he’s in there and his office hours are up.

She tells herself it’s an accident when she walks in and asks him for advice on her report.

That excuse can’t be used again when she does it the next week.

Over time, she finds herself in a weird friendship with Frank (although he’s her professor and they can’t really be labeled as “friends”).  He helps her with the class’s assignments and even offers to help her out with Keating’s classes.

“She’s a tough one.  It can be hard to read her at times,” he had said about Professor Keating, looking over her shoulder towards her office and she is led to believe that Frank and Keating might have some odd type of relationship as well.

There’s a strange likeness between the two of them that she can’t describe.  From their discussions on different criminal events, she senses a calmness and observant tact to his gaze that she can relate to.  Something she has failed to find in other people up until this point.  He’s calculated and despite his many annoying moments, when he’s silent, she can see the strategical way in how he thinks and the quiet demeanor which he often carries himself.

She sometimes thinks he would make the perfect criminal.

Then there’s the attraction, since the beginning.  The heated glances, lingering touches, staggered breathing…it’s a cruel twist of fate that she should be falling for a professor and she can’t do anything to stop it.  They’re both smart, however, and she can at least rest assure that she won’t make any falter and he won’t either.

Until they both do.

**

It’s the fifth time she has visited him.

The attraction is stronger than ever and she can barely focus on the paper she has brought in for him.  She wonders if he’s having the same difficulty as her.

It’s honestly her fault when it happens.

They both stand and reach out, him holding her paper and her reaching out to take it.  Her hand lands halfway on his and on the paper.  Instead of removing it like any other sane being, she keeps her hand there, even daring to spread out her fingers over his hand.  She can’t stop herself.  She hasn’t wanted anything as much as she wants him.

“Laurel,” he says, his breathing ragged.  She looks up and they both move in.

The kiss is heated, releasing the tension that had been building between them for weeks.  She can’t help but to put her arms around his neck and pull him closer, trying to get as much of him as she can.  It gives him the encouragement to place his hands on her hips and soon he has her against his desk, kissing her again and again until she can’t think of anything else except how strange and nice his beard feels on her skin, how lovely he feels against her body. 

Of course he’s good at this, why wouldn’t he be?

A sound outside the classroom makes them both jump and pull apart, breaking the moment.  He looks flushed and heated and she just knows she appears the same.  She tears her gaze away from him and begins grabbing her coat and bag.

“Laurel...”

“Don’t follow me,” she finds herself saying as she walks past him and out of the room. 

He doesn’t.

**

She can feel his eyes on her in class.  Especially during moments of classwork when he’s technically supposed to be working at his desk until the class is ready to produce their findings. 

She wants it to be a mistake.  Everything about the situation is a mistake.  She wants to hate him and tear herself away from his glances.

But it didn’t feel like a mistake…and she can’t stop thinking about him.

**

He hasn’t come after her in any way, and that’s probably the reason why she gets the courage to approach him.

She uses a paper as an excuse.  Connor and Michaela both tell her they’ll meet her out on campus later and they head out.

The class is soon empty, besides the two of them.  From his stance, he’s waiting for her to say something.

“What happened was wrong,” she finally says something.  It’s obvious, but it’s all she can think of.

_Shit, she’s in too deep._

He doesn’t say anything.  So she tries again.

“You’re my professor.  I’m your student.  Even if…we can’t…”

“Laurel, do you honestly think I care about that?”  He says roughly.  A part of her already knew that, but now it’s confirmed.

He continues on. 

“I don’t regret the kiss.  I’ve been wanting to do that for weeks.  Now I can’t stop thinking about it.”

“Frank…”

She looks down, feeling crushed and consumed, wanting nothing more than to just rush into him.

He sighs after a moment.  “Laurel, I’ll stop.  I don’t…I don’t want you quitting this class or feeling uncomfortable all the time because of me.  I’ll get over it.  I can do that for you.  Just don’t miss out on everything you can do here because of me.”

There’s such an earnestness in his voice that matches her own pain that she forgets all her barriers, everything that is stopping her from doing the one thing she wants to do.

She drops her bag to the ground and comes to him, standing on her tiptoes to bring him down for a kiss.  He’s stunned for just a moment before he gathers her to him and furiously kisses her back, almost moaning against her as she moves her hands throughout his hair, probably destroying it in the process.

“What happens now?” She asks between kisses, almost not caring about his answer because she’s finally right where she feels happiest.

“We’ll figure it out,” he responds, nipping her bottom lip and smiling when she hums happily to that.  He glances over her head to look at the time. “The next class doesn’t meet for another hour.”

“Then let’s make the most of it.”

His grin is sinful and Laurel quickly realizes she’s never going to look at this classroom the same way again.


End file.
